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The flight was uneventful- eight hours of broken sleep, one film and two surprisingly tasty meals. As soon as I stepped out of the relatively frosty air-conditioned cabin the heat hit me like when you open the oven door. I was glad I was not wearing my glasses or they would have steamed up. The flight tunnel could have been anywhere in the world but there is just something about the atmosphere, the smells, the air, the sounds that confirms you have arrived in Asia. We were met a the airport by Guarav, Rakesh and Manoj who took us to the coach we would be spending 6 hours on. Little did we know the coach was actually a burning inferno borrowed from the depths of hell not helped by the midday sun.
I managed to give all my English pound coins tipping the guy who put our bags on the roof of the bus. In retrospect £3.50 was far too much- it works out at about 260 rupees when the going rate is 10 or 20! Lesson learned- although I have probably contributed to the stereotype that all westerners have more money than sense.
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